<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>House After House by loosenoodlepoodledoodle</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24713389">House After House</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosenoodlepoodledoodle/pseuds/loosenoodlepoodledoodle'>loosenoodlepoodledoodle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Non-K-Pop Parodies [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Alien Quadrilogy (Movies), Alien Series, Event Horizon (1997), House M.D., Star Trek: The Next Generation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crossover, F/M, Horror, Science Fiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:27:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,700</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24713389</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosenoodlepoodledoodle/pseuds/loosenoodlepoodledoodle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rather than killing Thirteen, as he had once promised to do, House convinces her to try cryogenic stasis with him, in the hopes that in the future, they will be able to cure her Huntington's.</p><p>But in a future devoid of want, what is there left to live for but each other?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Remy "Thirteen" Hadley/Greg House</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Non-K-Pop Parodies [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672396</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>                “Sir, can you hear me? My name is—”</p>
<p>                House blinked in the bright light, his vision blurry.</p>
<p>                “—Dr. Beverly Crusher. How are you feeling?”</p>
<p>                “Pretty darn good,” he mumbled. <em>All things considering,</em> he added privately.</p>
<p>                He sat up, his vision clearing.</p>
<p>                “This has got to be the silliest infirmary I’ve ever seen.”</p>
<p>                Dr. Crusher tutted. “I’m sorry if the 24<sup>th</sup> century doesn’t meet your aesthetic standards.”</p>
<p>                “24<sup>th</sup>? Zounds, it’s only been three hundred years. No wonder this place doesn’t look very futuristic.”</p>
<p>                Dr. Crusher raised her eyebrow. “You seem strangely lucid, for someone who’s been dead for so long. Are you sure you’re ready to hear about the fates of your companions?”</p>
<p>                “One companion. We didn’t know any of the others. They were all frozen before we were. We were sort of late additions to the project.”</p>
<p>                “Well, that may explain why only two of you survived. Your cryogenic stasis equipment must have been of higher quality than the others.” She walked across the room, and House sprung to his feet to follow. As lame as the décor was, his patient attire was certainly a step up from the gowns at Princeton-Plainsboro.</p>
<p>                “Is this your companion?”</p>
<p>                House’s heart skipped a beat. There was Thirteen, asleep under some sort of diagnostic or surgical equipment.</p>
<p>                “How is she, doc?”</p>
<p>                “She’s doing quite well. Curing her genetic disorder was a bit more involved than anything else we had to fix for either of you, but she should be ready to wake up now.”</p>
<p>                “Do it.”</p>
<p>                “Okay, but I want to do it a little more slowly. She’s likely to be more disoriented; she was in much poorer condition than you were.”</p>
<p>                “Nah, just wake her up fully. It’ll be more interesting that way.”</p>
<p>                Dr. Crusher looked at him. “I think that may be medically unethical…”</p>
<p>                “But you’re not the only doctor here.” He extended his hand. “Hi, I’m doctor Gregory House, and this is Dr. Remy Hadley. So now you have a second opinion, and Dr. Hadley will agree with me when she wakes up, that you should just let ‘er rip.”</p>
<p>                Dr. Crusher frowned. “Let her rip?”</p>
<p>                House rolled his eyes. “An unfortunate expression. Come on, I know her, she’d be annoyed if you drag this out.”</p>
<p>                Dr. Crusher sighed. “Very well.”</p>
<p>                She administered a hypospray, and Thirteen’s eyes fluttered open.</p>
<p>                “House,” she whispered.</p>
<p>                “Hey, kiddo.”</p>
<p>                Sitting up: “Did it work? Oh wow, I feel back to normal.”</p>
<p>                “That would seem to be positive evidence. Also, it’s the twenty-fourth century, or so I’m told.”</p>
<p>                Dr. Crusher interrupted to explain the situation. “You’re on the starship <em>Enterprise</em>, many light years from Earth. We have no idea how your cryostasis platform ended up this far out. In fact, the only plausible explanation is alien interference.”</p>
<p>                Neither House nor Thirteen were fazed by this.</p>
<p>                “Great. I love puzzles.”</p>
<p>                “You’re awfully chipper,” said Thirteen. House frowned.</p>
<p>                “You’re right. That can’t bode well.”</p>
<p>                “Oh shit, your leg!”</p>
<p>                House looked down. His fucked up leg, probably the thing that led to most of his defining traits, was fully healed. He wasn’t sure if he could live without the trauma it would inevitably cause.</p>
<p>                “Oh shit, indeed.”</p>
<p>                Dr. Crusher shook her head in her hands.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>                They were invited to dinner with the captain.</p>
<p>                “So, what did you think of Sickbay?”</p>
<p>                House stared out the windows of the captain’s ready room. As did Thirteen.</p>
<p>                “Er—doctors?”</p>
<p>                “Huh? Oh sorry, just can’t quite get over that view. Although I did notice your ship’s decks are oriented in an odd direction relative to the ship’s motion in space. Wouldn’t it make more sense for them to be stacked like a skyscraper rather than like a sailing ship, perpendicular to the direction of travel?”</p>
<p>                “Well, um…”</p>
<p>                “Tell me about this Federation of Planets,” interrupted Thirteen. "How exactly are you able to communicate with each other, when alien physiologies are supposedly all different? I mean, your universal translators don’t make any sense.”</p>
<p>                “Ah, um, hum-dum-dum—”</p>
<p>                “It’s one hell of a coincidence for them to all be humanoid, too,” pointed out House.</p>
<p>                “And your Prime Directive is fucking stupid, obviously if a situation like Hitler exists somewhere in the galaxy, it is your moral obligation to stop it if you can. Non-interference is completely unethical, just because it can go wrong, doesn’t mean that it must go wrong—”</p>
<p>                “And how does a Frenchman end up sounding like a bloody Englishman, anyway, Mon Capitan?” finished House.</p>
<p>                Picard gave House a dark look. “There’s only one other person who ever calls me that,” he growled.</p>
<p>                House and Thirteen glared at him expectantly.</p>
<p>                “Ahem. Very well. To answer your questions: English is the primary language not just of Earth, but of the Federation. Before it was founded, humans went out into the wider galaxy like the imperialists of yore. In fact, our current mission is related to this, and I have a sneaking suspicion that your spacecraft was dragged along unwittingly during this period. Now, as to the prevalence of humanoid forms amongst the denizens of the galaxy, we can attribute to panspermia, convergent evolution, and deliberate machinations by older species. This is the single greatest thread of galactic history, and it is very delicately being unspooled.</p>
<p>                “As to the other things, I’m sure you’ll have a grand time consulting the ship’s computers. Goodnight.”</p>
<p>                “But what about dessert?” asked House.</p>
<p>                Picard grimaced and tapped his badge. “Lieutenant Worf, please escort our guests to their quarters.”</p>
<p>                Worf came in and took them in tow. They meekly followed him to the turbolift. They began to question him, but Worf merely growled, and they shut up.</p>
<p>                Soon they were outside their quarters.</p>
<p>                “Yours, ma’am, are right here. You sir, are down the hall there.”</p>
<p>                House and Thirteen looked at each other.</p>
<p>                “Actually, we’re together,” said House.</p>
<p>                “Then choose one and be done with it,” growled Worf. And he stalked away.</p>
<p>                “I guess they haven’t cured hemorrhoids yet,” said House, and Thirteen laughed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>                Their room had a nice view, including of the starboard warp nacelles, but otherwise it felt like living in the waiting room of a dentist’s office.</p>
<p>                “What was the point of advancing so much, and yet to live so…”</p>
<p>                “Staidly?” offered House.</p>
<p>                “Yeah, I guess so.”</p>
<p>                They sat down on the bed.</p>
<p>                “It looks like they don’t have televisions anymore,” observed House.</p>
<p>                “Then I suppose we’ll just have to find something else to do,” said Thirteen. She gave him a certain look, and he put his tongue in her mouth.</p>
<p>                “Three hundred years of morning wood,” said House.</p>
<p>                “Here, let me ask that wall replicator for some lube or something.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>                They fucked each other to exhaustion, and had to change the linens, oh and also take a shower, during which they again fucked. After, they snuggled together in full view of the stars.</p>
<p>                “I just realized that, from a certain angle, somebody on that side of the ship could totally have watched us porking,” said House.</p>
<p>                “Oh? Well, I don’t care.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “How are you feeling about all this? About making it to the future?”</p>
<p>                He blinked. “Completely nonplussed. Although, I suspect things’ll get interesting around here before too long.”</p>
<p>                “What makes you say that?”</p>
<p>                “They wouldn’t be all the way out here in a starship if they weren’t looking for something neat.”</p>
<p>                As physically healed as he was, House still neglected to ask Thirteen how <em>she</em> was feeling about everything.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>               House woke up in the middle of what he perceived as the night, though he knew of course that had no meaning away from a planetary surface. He got up, threw on some shorts and a t-shirt, and started messing around on the computer.</p>
<p>                “Can’t sleep?” asked Thirteen.</p>
<p>                He looked at her. “Nope.”</p>
<p>                She shrugged. “I should get up, too.”</p>
<p>                She got dressed and retrieved some breakfast from the replicator, sitting next to House at the guest room’s desk. They both absentmindedly chewed some toast.</p>
<p>                “What’s next?” asked Thirteen.</p>
<p>                House looked at her slowly.</p>
<p>                “I don’t know…”</p>
<p>                “Me neither. I just…I don’t think I can go back to being a doctor. In a world like this.”</p>
<p>                House nodded. “I know what you mean.”</p>
<p>                She looked down at her hands, then back at him.</p>
<p>                “Find anything interesting?”</p>
<p>                “Not yet, although I’ve discovered it accepts typed command line functions. And also, the touchscreen interface is much worse than an iPad’s.”</p>
<p>                Thirteen laughed. Then she grew silent, staring at him. He finally noticed.</p>
<p>                “Remy?”</p>
<p>                She let the moment hang before speaking again. “I think it’s pretty obvious what’s going to happen. You’re going to have to find some puzzle, to keep you occupied, to give your life meaning. And I’m going to have to find some purpose, now that I’m no longer dying.”</p>
<p>                “We’re still dying, we just had a stay of execution.”</p>
<p>                “You know what I mean,” said Thirteen.</p>
<p>                She sighed. “I hope that your puzzle and my purpose end up being the same thing. Otherwise, I’m not sure what will happen to us.”</p>
<p>                House understood that she meant their relationship. And the possibility of losing one more person, the last person he knew from the old world, terrified him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>                The doorbell rang. “Who is it?” called out Thirteen.</p>
<p>                “Lieutenant Commander Data,” said the intercom.</p>
<p>                “Come in!”</p>
<p>                They were a little surprised to see him, though they tried not to show it.</p>
<p>                “Greetings. I am off duty at the current moment, and thought you might enjoy a tour of the ship. We’ll be approaching our destination soon, and can afford a better view from Ten Forward.”</p>
<p>                With literally nothing to do, they took up his offer. They found the layout of the ship to be oppressive in its repetitiveness, and the thought that they could not step out for a breath of fresh air was disconcerting. Not even the holodeck could disabuse them of this notion.</p>
<p>                “If I just walk this way, and you walk that way, there’s a limit to what the illusion can do, right?” House’s experiment worked. Data was as dumbstruck as it was possible for him to be when the grid appeared, delineating the limits of the the play area.</p>
<p>                “This is unprecedented!” Data had that silly look on his face, the one where he resembles a Sesame Street Muppet tasting drugs for the very first time.</p>
<p>                “So how is this stuff solid?” asked Thirteen.</p>
<p>                Data looked less ridiculous when given a question he could answer.</p>
<p>                “It is largely a combination of force fields, as well as an application of replicator technology, for certain objects.”</p>
<p>                “So wait, if I order a turkey sandwich, it can give me one here? I don’t have to go back to our room?”</p>
<p>                Data nodded. “Yes, Dr. House.”</p>
<p>                House stroked his chin in thought. Thirteen wondered where the thought would lead.</p>
<p>                “Come,” said Data. “We should be entering orbit around LV-426 momentarily.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>                Ten Forward was fairly quiet at that hour. Data prepared beverages while House and Thirteen stared slack-jawed out the windows at the gas giant before them.</p>
<p>                “I am curious. How would you describe your emotional reaction to this sight?”</p>
<p>                They could scarcely pull their eyes away to silently scold him.</p>
<p>                “Oh. My apologies.”</p>
<p>                “Why are we here?” asked Thirteen.</p>
<p>                “Good question, Dr. Hadley. We are here to check in on a Starfleet archaeological expedition that has gone silent. The primary moon of LV-426 is nearly M-class. Some two hundred years ago, there was a failed colonization attempt that did significantly alter the atmosphere. The site has significant research value, given that most knowledge of such techniques was lost. In fact, the Federation was partly founded to preserve valuable information like this for future generations.”</p>
<p>                House looked at Thirteen.</p>
<p>                “Interesting,” he said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>                Unfortunately, they were mere civilians, of no use to the Captain or anyone else for that matter. They holed up together in their room, searching the ship’s computer for information, anything to keep busy during their purgatory. They couldn’t even watch reruns of their favorite shows, nearly all such records having been obliterated during the Post-Atomic Horror. What little was left was unfit for human consumption.</p>
<p>                “I guess I’ll never know how <em>Prescription: Passion</em> ended.”</p>
<p>                Thirteen snickered. Then she had an idea, at the exact same time House did.</p>
<p>                “The holodeck?”</p>
<p>                He nodded. “Let’s see what all they salvaged from the cryoship. I’m seem to recall packing a DVD set with me before going into the ice.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>                They had to pick through a lot of crap in one of the cargo bays, but they found what they were looking for. The discs were in rough shape, but it was almost trivial for the ship’s computer to read the data. Job done, they headed for the holodeck.</p>
<p>                “Wow, Brock Sterling, in the flesh.”</p>
<p>                “How can I help you?”</p>
<p>                “House,” said Thirteen, “we’ve already met him in person.”</p>
<p>                “No, we met the actor who played him. But this is the real deal. Now let’s put Brenna and Anna into the same scene with him and see who he picks.”</p>
<p>                “I’m sorry, stranger, but what are you talking about?”</p>
<p>                <em>“Brock!”</em> Two women appeared, enamored of him, and jealous of each other.</p>
<p>                “Um, could you give us some privacy?”</p>
<p>                “Freeze program,” said House. “Computer, why are they reacting to us?”</p>
<p>
  <em>                “You did not specify the appropriate parameters.”</em>
</p>
<p>                “Oh jeez…”</p>
<p>                “House, I’m going try one of the other holodecks. This is more of <em>your</em> thing, I believe.”</p>
<p>                And she left without another word.</p>
<p>                Stunned, House muttered to Brock, “What prescription would you give for <em>that?”</em> fully expecting a trademark response. Then he saw that his characters were still paused.</p>
<p>                “Computer, have them ignore me, and resume program.”</p>
<p>                As the fireworks began, House watched voyeuristically. Was this really the way the show could have ended?</p>
<p>                “Is this really how you’re going to spend the rest of your life?” asked Wilson.</p>
<p>                House’s insides turned to ice.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>                Thirteen watched the clouds circling the globe outside her window. She was frustrated, but by what? Surely she couldn’t have expected House to change, even after everything they had been through together. He had been willing to euthanize her, and it was his crazy idea to try this frozen floating tomb thing in space. They’d been among SpaceX’s earliest customers, had sold off almost all their possessions, and she had gone under fully expecting to die, in what would have been a fairly pleasant experience. But no, yet another one of House’s insane schemes had panned out in the end, and now she was paying the price.</p>
<p>                “What the hell am I going to do?”</p>
<p>                Dark thoughts began to appear, deeper than the void in front of her eyes. She gave a start when the door behind her suddenly opened.</p>
<p>                It was House, looking sweaty and pale as a ghost.</p>
<p>                “Oh, are you alright?”</p>
<p>                House looked like he was going to deny it, to deflect, but then he solemnly shook his head: <em>I am</em> not <em>alright.</em></p>
<p>                “Are you in withdrawal?’</p>
<p>                He shook his head again.</p>
<p>                “Have you been using?”</p>
<p>                This time he shook his head with an exasperated look. Thirteen put a little more thought into the possibilities.</p>
<p>                “Are you hallucinating?”</p>
<p>                Eyes comically wide, head bounded up and down.</p>
<p>                “Who is it? Kutner?”</p>
<p>                “Not yet. No, it’s Wilson.” He looked around. “I don’t think he’s followed me back here yet. But pretty soon, I’m going to have a whole gang banging around in my head. And not the good kind.”</p>
<p>                Thirteen grabbed a little tablet off the end table.</p>
<p>                “Computer, what should we do if we start hallucinating?”</p>
<p>
  <em>                “Proceed to sickbay immediately.”</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>                “We can try an anti-psychotic to start, but it may be that you’ll need counseling sessions to overcome whatever trauma the hallucinations stem from,” said Dr. Crusher.</p>
<p>                “We’ll look into making an appointment,” said Thirteen, diplomatically. She let the side of her hand just brush against House’s. He interpreted it as a message: <em>I’m still here with you.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>                For now.</em>
</p>
<p>                “Attention Sickbay, medical emergency! Prepare to receive emergency transport!”</p>
<p>                Dr. Crusher shooed the two of them away, into her office. They watched in horror as Worf materialized directly onto an operating table with something stuck to his face.</p>
<p>                “Good God,” said Thirteen, “what the fuck is that?”</p>
<p>                “One of the fingers is broken,” pointed out House. “Right next to where his ear used to be.”</p>
<p>                Thirteen saw. The chemical burns were horrible.</p>
<p>                Just then, Data entered through the door, along with Commander Riker. Data’s hand was all ruined, looking like something out of the Terminator movies.</p>
<p>                <em>“Hasta la vista,</em> baby,” muttered House. Thirteen shushed him.</p>
<p>                “Why didn’t the transporter remove this organism?” asked Dr. Crusher.</p>
<p>                “The lock had some sort of difficulty separating the two patterns,” explained Data. “Rather than risk losing the integrity of the lieutenant’s skull, it was decided it was best to quarantine him here, where we can better ascertain a course of action.”</p>
<p>                “Quarantine? Okay, you two, get out!” And our heroes were shooed back to their quarters, where they had plenty of questions but no answers to give but their own.</p>
<p>                “Christ, that’s really sloppy, going down there without some kind of environmental suit,” complained Thirteen bitterly.</p>
<p>                “I wonder what it was doing to him…” thought House aloud.</p>
<p>                “Probably throat-fucking him. Some kind of weird bug that enjoys laying eggs in warm, wet holes.”</p>
<p>                House chose not to follow up with the obvious rejoinder.</p>
<p>                “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”</p>
<p>                Thirteen looked worried. “Me, too.”</p>
<p>                To House’s great relief, Wilson wasn’t around to give his two cents.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>                “Heresy pie?”</p>
<p>                House blinked. “Pardon me?”</p>
<p>                “Would you like some heresy pie? It has chocolate,” said Counselor Troi.</p>
<p>                House and Thirteen had been invited to a dinner after-party, in honor of the medical staff having saved Worf’s life. He sat in the corner, glowering at everyone, almost certainly ashamed at having been caught off guard by a weird sex-alien. Thirteen expressed her doubts to the counselor that all was well.</p>
<p>                “If you couldn’t avoid separating it during transport, then how can you be sure there’s nothing left inside him?”</p>
<p>                “Well, I’m not a medical doctor, but I do trust ours,” said Troi. Thirteen detected an unintentional condescension in her voice, and decided to lash out in response.</p>
<p>                “I guess people don’t trust a second or third opinion in the twenty-fourth century, huh?”</p>
<p>                Troi almost choked on her pie, but nearly passed it off as savoring the taste. House smirked, then his eyes went wide.</p>
<p>                “He’s gonna pop!”</p>
<p>                Thirteen turned, only to see Worf blow chunks across the room. Dr. Crusher ran over to the replicator.</p>
<p>                “Computer, give me a dose of regurgitation muscle inhibitor!”</p>
<p>                There was a ripping sound, and blood followed Worf’s dessert.</p>
<p>                “Oh God!” shouted Picard, cringing. Riker fared no better.</p>
<p>                “It’s nothing,” growled Worf. Then his stomach burst open and a critter popped out.</p>
<p>                <em>“Raooorrr!”</em> squealed the alien. It hopped down, making a beeline for the door. Meanwhile Worf tried to keep his guts from falling out.</p>
<p>                “I-it’s just a f-f-flesh wound.” He passed out. House rushed over to put pressure on the wound, but it was Thirteen who saved the day.</p>
<p>                “Computer, give me a set of metal clamps!”</p>
<p>                Dr. Crusher, once she had recovered from her innate fear of blood, would later marvel at the simple but elegant fix.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>                “For your service in saving the life of Lieutenant Worf, a valued member of my crew—and a friend—I hereby grant you both the rank of honorary acting ensign.”</p>
<p>                Mild applause ensued. The captain pinned communicator badges on House and Thirteen, thought they were allowed to continue wearing their civilian clothes.</p>
<p>                “Picard,” said House, “this is all well and good, but what about that creature? Isn’t it—”</p>
<p>                A hard look from the captain silenced him. “Uh, sorry, sir.”</p>
<p>                Picard softened a little. “Doctor, my number one assures me that the organism will be found soon.”</p>
<p>                There was a thud, and an alarm. <em>“Warning: warp core breach imminent.”</em></p>
<p>                “La Forge to Captain Picard!”</p>
<p>                “Picard here!”</p>
<p>                “That thing chewed through part of the containment structure! The core ejection system is stuck! There’s nothing I can do!”</p>
<p>                “Computer! Auto-launch shuttles and the yacht! Separate the saucer section at once! All hands, prepare to abandon ship!”</p>
<p>                There was a shudder, and the officers in the conference room sat down, pulling out safety restraints that had been tucked into the back of the chairs this whole time. Our heroes followed suit.</p>
<p>                “Brace for impact!” came Data’s voice over the intercom.</p>
<p>                There was a flash of light as the back half of the ship vaporized. The saucer section shook as the shields buckled under the strain, then everyone felt free-fall as the artificial gravity and inertial dampeners cut out. LV-426 loomed through the window, then the view was obscured by the incandescent glow of reentry plasma. House felt the ship seem to right itself, and the landing ended up being less violent than he expected. As soon as the dust cleared, Picard undid his restraints and leapt to his feet.</p>
<p>                “Report!”</p>
<p>                “Power levels critically low,” said the disembodied voice of Data, in the dark. “Life support at minimum. Emergency lighting, communication, and computation systems only. All other systems are offline.”</p>
<p>                “On my way.” The captain had to manhandle the door to the bridge open. The other officers followed, but House and Thirteen lingered.</p>
<p>                “I think we’re fucked,” whispered Thirteen.</p>
<p>                “You don’t say,” muttered Wilson behind her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>                The only bright light source on the bridge was the skylight in the ceiling, though wan, gray daylight did drift in from the open conference room. One of the redshirts was muscling open the captain’s ready room, and when he was done, it doubled the light available with which to see. Meanwhile, Dr. Crusher had already left down a turbolift shaft, which incidentally had been built angled so they could function as emergency stairwells for just such an emergency as this one.</p>
<p>                The captain noticed them. “You two, follow her back to sickbay. Make yourself useful, there are sure to be many casualties.”</p>
<p>                House gulped, and Thirteen blanched, at looking down into the murky dark shaft.</p>
<p>                <em>If only my leg were still bad,</em> thought House.</p>
<p>                “It could be, again, if you fall,” said Amber. House flinched.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>                They caught up to Dr. Crusher in the maze.</p>
<p>                “So what happens now?” asked Thirteen.</p>
<p>                “Do you mean survival-wise?” asked Dr. Crusher.</p>
<p>                “Yes.”</p>
<p>                “We just have to hold out until rescue. Hopefully we’ll have enough power for subspace communications, but if not, this is the Federation’s flagship. Starfleet will come looking for us.”</p>
<p>                “What about our air and water?”</p>
<p>                “Well, we have some power yet. The top surface of the saucer does have some solar panels, so we’ll be able to generate some energy during the day. There’s plenty of water vapor in the atmosphere, so we can readily condense enough to drink. Though with a thousand people on board, it’ll be worth rationing. As for oxygen, there’s enough in the atmosphere to sustain human life. It’s just not ideal; once the air mixture in here equalizes with the outside, we’ll run out of breath frequently.</p>
<p>                “But what will we eat with all the replicators down?” asked House.</p>
<p>                Dr. Crusher stopped and looked at them.</p>
<p>                “The emergency rations are nutrient-infused tofu blocks.”</p>
<p>                <em>Fucking kill me,</em> thought House. Then he saw Kutner lurking in the shadows, a small smile on his face.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>                “Worf, you’re not ready to return to duty.”</p>
<p>                Sickbay was the only place that was well lit. The lieutenant was protesting mightily about remaining bedridden and under observation.</p>
<p>                “Doctor, I have already been shamed by losing a fight with a parasite. I must restore my honor by defending everyone from those things.”</p>
<p>                “But Worf! That thing was in Engineering! It got blown to smithereens! What do you need to defend us from?”</p>
<p>                “The archaeology team is still not fully accounted for! There could be more of those things, lying in wait around us, getting ready to assault the ship! I must be ready for them!”</p>
<p>                And he stormed off in his underwear.</p>
<p>                House and Thirteen did what they could, rendering first aid to the many patients who arrived. But they weren’t trained to use any of the medical equipment (not that much of it was functioning, anyway). So they stole away into Dr. Crusher’s office for a moment.</p>
<p>                “We have got to get the fuck out of here. These people stand no chance,” said Thirteen.</p>
<p>                House agreed. “It looks like most of their computer security has been stood down for the emergency.” He ran a search on the shuttles. Most of them were apparently automatically landing on the roof, while a few were being remotely piloted to rendezvous and rescue the folks on the handful of escape pods that made it away from the engineering section before it went up in smoke. But what intrigued the two of them the most was the captain’s private yacht.</p>
<p>                "It’s just parked up there in synchronous orbit,” said Thirteen. “Look at the logs; it’s barely been used, mainly for deliveries by someone named Guinan.”</p>
<p>                “More importantly, it’s got real food, not just tofu.”</p>
<p>                “And full power, too.”</p>
<p>                House looked at Thirteen, and formulated a plan.</p>
<p>                “Maybe we can steal one of the shuttles that have landed up top, then fly it up there and be safe?”</p>
<p>                “But what if they try and stop us?”</p>
<p>                House shrugged. “We just bluff our way through. Besides, they can’t power any of the weapons systems. And flying up should be a lot easier than flying down would be.”</p>
<p>                “Always trying to run from your responsibilities,” said Wilson. “Even after three hundred years.”</p>
<p>                <em>I was frozen,</em> thought House. <em>And anyways, who ever really changes. I mean, you’re dead, so you’ll be like that from here to eternity.</em></p>
<p>                Wilson shook his head. “You just have an answer for everything.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>                The tricky part was finding a way to the surface. The turbolift shafts were sealed shut behind bulkheads at the top, and the interior corridors of the ship had become a labyrinth of endless night. It was Thirteen who found a potential solution.</p>
<p>                “Do you think we should ask Guinan herself? I mean, some of the stuff on those manifests sounded pretty bootleg. She might be interested in helping us, especially since she’d probably know how to board the thing.”</p>
<p>                House frowned in thought. “Hmm. Guinan. Why does that name sound familiar?”</p>
<p>                “There’s only one reason, House,” said Wilson, unhelpfully.</p>
<p>                “It says here, she’s the proprietor of Ten Forward.”</p>
<p>                “That shouldn’t be too difficult to reach.” And off they went.</p>
<p>                Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, depending on your worldview, Ten Forward was quite busy during the disaster. The people who normally might have sports to play, or an e-book to read, or some perverted fantasy to enact in the holodeck, now had naught available to them except the drink. And Ten Forward was also the only place on the ship readily equipped with foodstuffs to serve apart from the damned rations. Guinan could have raised herself to monarchy with the prices desperation raised.</p>
<p>                “Greg, how have you been?”</p>
<p>                House looked at Guinan. “Wow.”</p>
<p>                “Wait, you know each other?”</p>
<p>                House nodded. “She was at Hopkins the same time I was. She used to joke about living forever. I guess you were serious, huh?”</p>
<p>                Guinan chuckled. “Forever is a long time, but it hasn’t happened yet! So, what’ll it be?”</p>
<p>                “For you? How about an escape plan?” And they whispered their idea to Guinan.</p>
<p>                “You know what, Greg? You’re absolutely right. Although, the saucer section has its own shuttle bay, so we don’t need to get up on the roof.”</p>
<p>                She knelt down under the bar, and when she stood up again, House noticed some long, skinny object seemed to be hidden under her flowing robes.</p>
<p>                “Follow me, doctors.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>                Lieutenant Barclay was arguing with Lieutenant Commander La Forge.</p>
<p>                “Sir, I’ve got a bad feeling about this. I mean, a really bad feeling about this. We shouldn’t have come back here!”</p>
<p>                “Reg, chill out. There’s nothing out there! It’s almost an airless rock!”</p>
<p>                “But it’s not an airless rock! And we’re s-s-s-sitting ducks if we stay put!”</p>
<p>                “Greetings, gentlemen,” said Guinan. She drew out her phaser rifle from under her robes.</p>
<p>                “Guinan, what are you doing?” asked Geordi.</p>
<p>                “Survival of the fittest, hon.” And she stunned him. Barclay threw his hands up.</p>
<p>                “H-h-hey, c-c-can you take me with you?”</p>
<p>                Guinan considered this. “Sure, kid, we could use an engineer.”</p>
<p>                “Uh, you’ll need an operations officer, as well,” said Ensign Ro. She’d been standing behind a pile of supply crates the entire time. “Someone who knows how to fly a shuttle, at least.”</p>
<p>                Guinan shrugged, and the fellowship grew. Thirteen’s eyes lingered on the Ensign, and while Ro’s reaction was at first hostile, she couldn’t help but melt in the light of Thirteen’s intense gaze.</p>
<p>                “Christ, this is your lucky day,” remarked Wilson. House felt a tingle in his balls at the thought of a threesome, but also a pang of jealousy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>                As they cleared the shuttle bay, they saw Worf enter in a fury. They were hailed repeatedly, but ignored all such requests. When they reached the yacht, they had no trouble docking and entering. Then they had to wait.</p>
<p>                Several times, the bridge crew attempted to remotely hack the yacht’s systems, but Ro and Barclay were always able to stop them in the nick of time. Once, a pair of shuttles attempted to force entry and boarding, but the yacht was armed, minimally though it was, and the shuttles were not. Finally, the captain gave up on his retribution against the mutineers, for another problem had arrived.</p>
<p>                House and the others monitored the situation the whole time. After a few days, there were disturbing reports. Disappearances and bloodied corpses, sightings of a nameless horror, then another, and another. Near the end, one of the shuttles returned with three refugees: Chief O’Brien, and his wife and young daughter. Reluctantly, they allowed them onboard, but only after an excess of scans and medical examinations to show they were clean. The fact that Miles had brought a load of supplies with him to purchase his family’s safety was surely of assistance in the decision to accept them, too.</p>
<p>                The stories he told of the <em>Enterprise</em>’s doom chilled them all.</p>
<p>                Finally, only Data was left down below, and they listened sadly as he broadcast his final mission, to detonate the saucer section’s magazine of photon torpedoes. The yacht’s sensors registered his success.</p>
<p>                Now, days later, after complete radio silence from Starfleet, they at long last received a signal.</p>
<p>                “That’s odd, it’s not on any Starfleet frequencies,” said House.</p>
<p>                “This is some archaic distress signal.” Ro played it out loud for them.</p>
<p>                “That’s Morse code,” said the Chief.</p>
<p>                “S.O.S.?” Thirteen frowned.</p>
<p>                “Then it must not be a rescue mission,” observed Guinan.</p>
<p>                “Who cares who it is,” said Keiko. “As long as it’s not the Romulans or any of the other enemies we have.”</p>
<p>                “You were right,” said Wilson, “people really don’t change.” House laughed.</p>
<p>                They stared at him. Thirteen looked worried.</p>
<p>                “Something funny, Greg?”</p>
<p>                House shook his head. “No, just blowing off steam.” To Barclay he added: “What can we see on sensors?”</p>
<p>                “Uh, there is a, uh, an old ship just at the edge of visual range. We can reach it easily and quickly.”</p>
<p>                Ro frowned. “Could it be the <em>Nostromo</em>, or the <em>Sulaco</em>?”</p>
<p>                Barclay shook his head. “N-no, not the right configuration, though it does fit the overall pattern of that era of ship-building.”</p>
<p>                They all looked to Guinan for guidance. She looked at the Chief.</p>
<p>                “Number One, let’s rendezvous with that ship. Make it so.”</p>
<p>                “Ensign Ro,” said the Chief, “lay in a course and engage.”</p>
<p>                “Aye-aye,” muttered Ensign Ro, darkly. Thirteen slid her hands around her waist from behind, and her demeanor brightened a little.</p>
<p>                “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” whispered Wilson to House. For once, House agreed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>                They reached the ship after a few hours. It was clearly a derelict from Earth, and heavily damaged. Some kind of forward-connecting trusswork was sheared clean off.</p>
<p>                “Th-that configuration reminds me of the <em>Enterprise</em> a little bit,” said Barclay.</p>
<p>                “How so?” asked Thirteen.</p>
<p>                The Chief answered her. “It’s like two halves of a ship, separated. This is probably the aft engineering section.”</p>
<p>                “The ship is not on any registry stored on our computer,” said Ensign Ro.</p>
<p>                House saw something on the ship’s side. “There are words over there, do you see them?”</p>
<p>                “Yes,” said Guinan. “Ensign, bring us about for a better view.”</p>
<p>                “Aye-aye.”</p>
<p>                House tried to sound them out, but they were in poor condition. <em>“Eve?</em> Or…or…<em>Orion?”</em></p>
<p>                <em>“Event Horizon,”</em> blurted out Barclay.</p>
<p>                They all felt a chill run down their spines.</p>
<p>                “That’s ominous-sounding,” teased Amber.</p>
<p>                “Indeed,” muttered House.</p>
<p>                “Who would name their ship that?” wondered Thirteen.</p>
<p>                An airlock door yawned before them like a gaping mouth.</p>
<p>                “Are…are we going to dock with that?” asked Keiko timidly.</p>
<p>                “No, I think we’re good,” said Guinan. “Ensign, take us back to our previous synchronous orbit.”</p>
<p>                “Aye,” murmured Ro, her voice quavering. But it was not to be.</p>
<p>                “That ghost ship’s following us!” said the Chief.</p>
<p>                “Oh, hell, no,” said Guinan. “Power up the phasers, let’s destroy that thing, just to be safe.”</p>
<p>                “You can’t outrun fate,” said Kutner. Thirteen screamed, and House realized they could all see him and hear him now.</p>
<p>                Blood oozed from the hole in his head.</p>
<p>                “House, I’m back,” said Amber. She didn’t look that bad at all.</p>
<p>                “S-some kind of g-g-g-gravimetric distortion is opening in front of us!” shrieked Barclay.</p>
<p>                “I always wanted you,” said Amber. “Now’s our chance, before we fall in and the blood orgy starts.”</p>
<p>
  <em>                “Blood orgy?”</em>
</p>
<p>                “You know, House,” said Wilson nonchalantly, “you were such a piece of shit human being. But you don’t deserve this. You really don’t.”</p>
<p>                <em>“I can’t avoid it, we’re falling in!”</em> cried out Ensign Ro.</p>
<p>                “You should have died,” said Dr. Cameron. House saw tears in her eyes. Red tears.</p>
<p>                “Died, and stayed dead. Now you’ll live forever, in Hell. With us.”</p>
<p>                Thirteen ran over to House and grabbed his hands. “Jesus, I’m scared, House!”</p>
<p>                “Me, too, Remy…”</p>
<p>                They shut their eyes.</p>
<p>                “Hold on, I’ve got an idea!” shouted the Chief, and…</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I left the ending a cliff-hanger because, assuming they are saved, what could possibly happen next? Instead, it's better to end the story on a high note. Funnily enough, this is the exact rationale used to justify ending House after 8 seasons. Needless to say, I was not ready for that, nor were fans of <em>The Next Generation</em> ready when <em>that</em> show got canceled. Also, the sequels after <em>Aliens</em> all sucked, and <em>Event Horizon</em> was nerfed, so this is a love letter to all of those works of art.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>